


Enough

by outinthisrain



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outinthisrain/pseuds/outinthisrain
Summary: Growing up, Emma Swan learnt to be satisfied with just enough. This way, she could focus on moving forward with less regrets, less weight weighing on her chest from silly what-ifs or wishes of something better. One thing always remained the same: she is alive, and that itself is enough. Her determination never wavered since she placed it there, and life seemed to go on easier without the additional emotional baggage.That was, until she met Killian Jones.
Relationships: Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Milah, Prince Charming | David Nolan & Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard & Emma Swan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Love, Emma](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512496) by [captain_emmajones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_emmajones/pseuds/captain_emmajones). 



At the age of five, Emma learns her first lesson: not to ask for anything she already knows she won’t be given. She developed a foolish way of thinking that because she was a child and if she behaved well and asked nicely that she would be given what she asked for as long as it wasn’t excessive.

She can only guess that wanting her foster parents to read her favourite book aloud to her before bed is too much to ask in this household.

Never mind then, she’ll just sit with her books surrounded by the warmth of her bed and read herself to sleep, like she’s been doing for the three weeks she’s been there.

Emma loves books. She likes how they can both put her to sleep and awaken her mind with ideas that aren’t real but _feel_ real enough to entertain her in ways that her caretakers can’t. She’s been reading the same three books by alternating between them each night, and to be honest, she’s getting kinda bored, so she resolves to ask Mr and Mrs Wood if she can get just one more, and maybe one with multiple fairytales so it’ll last longer. Maybe she should do something nice for them tomorrow to soften their hearts.

They give her back the week after when they realise they prefer having a son with athletic capabilities to a daughter whose mind is hopelessly lost in stories that aren’t real. (But Emma finds she feels quite alive within them.)

But it’s all right, because at least they let her take her three books; she’s glad that their new son wouldn’t sit down to touch a page.

It is enough.

By fifteen years of age Emma has been given back five times because she didn’t turn out to be what they wanted her to be. She was either not enough of something or too much of another. By now, she is tired of hoping to live up to someone else’s expectations when she was never going to meet them in the first place, and she is smart enough to know not to _try_ to be someone who would be accepted because she knows it won’t do much for her in the long run.

So, when she is told that she has been chosen by another couple and is to leave with them the following week, she decides that she will go with little expectations and plays a guessing game in her mind for how long it will take for them to give her back.

But when a full month passes and she is still sleeping in her room in their cosy house, the longest she has ever been in one place so far, she starts to rethink her fate. Perhaps they will keep her after all.

The Swans have been treating her like their own since the day they brought her back with them, and it took a little more than a week for her heart to start warming with something that might just feel like a sense of being _wanted_ , truly wanted, and she lets herself embrace it and be happy with the time she spends with them. They told her about their problems with having a child of their own, and her heart broke for them, and she thought that that meant something, that they were looking for a child to complete their family and that she was looking for people who wanted her just for who she was, so she started to see herself as that missing piece they were looking for. Life is filled with happiness and warmth, and life is good.

But then, another month goes by and that’s when things start to change. She doesn’t mean to stumble upon their conversation on the way downstairs, their bedroom door open just a crack, and learn that Mrs Swan is expecting – they are expecting.

At first, an instinctive sense of panic settles in her chest and tugs at her gut, but she quickly wills it away and assures herself, _No, don’t think like that. They’ve been so nice, they won’t give you away just because of that._

And so she lets herself be happy for them, and wonders herself what it will be like to have a sibling.

Naturally, she doesn’t expect it when they sit her down one afternoon, when the outside is perfect and it seems like nothing could go wrong in the world. Emma doesn’t miss the way Mrs Swan’s hand is laying so protectively on her stomach, aware of the precious essence of life already growing within. A feeling of fondness expands in her chest and a smile that now comes so naturally spreads across her lips, but that is before she looks up to see the expression on Mr Swan’s kind but tired face.

She sees the regret before his words voice it, and the warmth that has existed in her chest for a while dissipates immediately as a heavy weight sinks down in the pit of her stomach once again.

She should have seen it coming, but of course she chose to blind herself instead with hope when the slightest glimpse of a happy future seemed to appear in front of her.

It was nothing but an illusion that has now faded. How naïve she is.

One would have thought she would have learnt not to expect something that she knew deep down she would never have (at least permanently), but now she thinks she has really learnt her lesson and the five times she has been given back comes up to six.

But it’s okay, because she realises that she still has herself, even all those times before, and perhaps that is already enough. Perhaps this way, she can finally stop hoping for more.

She is enough for herself. She likes the sound of that.

At seventeen, she comes to terms with the fact that she has grown too old for any couple to want her anymore, so now she counts the days she has left before she can leave this place and find her own purpose (if there is even a chance that she can have one for herself). Her three books – the very same – are the only company she needs although she has long outgrown them. She decided to keep them because they are a reminder that she shouldn’t ask for more, and because they were her only source of comfort on the days where it felt like her thoughts would swallow her whole and her only escape was just that – escape, from her very own mind.

_Just one more year._

She doesn’t know where to start once she’s out there, but she decides to let her gut guide her, since it’s about the only thing she can rely on at the moment.

That’s what she likes about having only herself to rely on – her thoughts are hers alone and that makes it easy to make decisions, because she’s only making decisions for herself without having someone else’s feelings to worry about.

Living like this is enough. She doesn’t need anybody. She probably never did, but she is grateful for the mistakes she made in the past because she wouldn’t know what she knows now if she hadn’t. It’s better this way.

(Even if it feels lonely sometimes, but that is something Emma can deal with. It’s easy to think that she’s burying the feeling because it’s going to stay with her regardless. It always has, and she doubts that that will ever change.)

She finally turns eighteen in late October and steps out of the building with a single bag slung over her shoulder. She doesn’t have much, but she really doesn’t mind. It’s easy to carry around and there’s nothing of value for her to worry about being stolen as she walks aimlessly in streets she has never ventured before.

Eventually, her feet come to a stop at the command of her subconscious thoughts when her eyes land on the sign in front of her:

_Ann’s Bookstore – free giveaway._

An old feeling that she doesn’t want to name rises inside her as she hesitates for just another moment before taking a step inside.

Her fingertips skim the worn paperback spines of old books that people gave away. Most of them are unsurprisingly children’s books, and her eyes catch on a particular title before her hands gently pull it out of the neat stack.

_The Ugly Duckling._

She vaguely remembers reading the tale at the library she visited with the third couple that had taken her in. She was still young at the time, but she recalls the gist of the tale, and a sliver of bitterness prods at her heart when her memories of the Swans resurface. She almost places the book back down, but she reconsiders when she decides that it could very well serve as a sort of bittersweet reminder of another one of her mistakes.

It is that very day as she walks out of the bookstore with the thin article in hand that she thinks of giving herself a last name, and what better name to give herself than the namesake that holds a double meaning?

And so that day, she deems her identity complete. Emma Swan is who she is now, and she reminds herself again that all she will ever need to survive in this world is herself.

It is three months later when she first steps foot into the quaint and cosy Storybrooke. She developed an unexplained urge to get away from the city and chanced upon a picture of the town at the post office. It looked to be situated by the sea and was out quite a distance from the city, and something deep inside her seemed to tug Emma towards making the decision to go there and see if it could be worth the stay.

So on she went, and nothing about the town made her desperate to leave yet after spending a day walking around. The residents are friendly enough, never looking at her with judgement in their eyes of a young girl like herself wandering around without a sure purpose. She manages to get a room at the inn smartly attached to the diner, owned by the same old woman with kind eyes yet an admirable air of firmness around her, for a good price, and something about the smile she is offered tells Emma that the woman – Granny, as she was instructed to address her – went out of her way to make sure she could afford it with what she had. She sees no pity but sincere, inviting warmth in her eyes, and Emma thinks that maybe she’ll be all right with staying here a while.

Emma wakes the next morning oddly refreshed, but she doesn’t dare to take that as a sign that the rest of the day will go on well.

She decides that the first order of business is to find something productive to do to sustain herself for as long as she decides to stay. She eats a light breakfast at the diner and develops an acquaintance with the bubbly and outspoken waitress – who also happens to be Granny’s own granddaughter – before strolling around, this time eyes searching for a place where she can apply to work and where work won’t be too exhausting or difficult for someone as inexperienced as herself.

It takes a while before she finds herself talking to a sweet woman named Mary Margaret, who works as a teacher and is offering her to be her own assistant.

”Nothing too challenging, I promise. You’ll just be helping me with admin stuff – you know, organising papers, setting up the materials for special lessons. You can ask me for help any time. So, what do you say?”

The earnestness in her voice and the gentle gleam in her eyes spark something that feels unsettlingly like _hope_ in the depth of Emma’s chest, but she resists the urge to step back and run away. She decides it’s time to get past the fear of letting this woman down and step up to do what she needs to do. So, without waiting another moment, Emma puts on a brave smile that she hopes is natural enough.

”Sure. I’d love to help.”

Emma soon finds that her new friend (so friendly and comfortable to be around despite being nearly a decade older than herself) is such pleasant company, one that she hasn’t experienced before and thus one that she embraces with gratitude. Not once has Mary Margaret looked at her with annoyance nor spoken to her with exasperation even when she made countless mistakes. Patience and pure kindness are all that she ever receives from the good-natured woman, but she can’t help holding her breath for when she makes too many mistakes before her friend decides that she isn’t worth the patience and kindness and stops putting up with her childish desperation to belong somewhere.

But for now, all seems well, yet Emma refuses to relent and let hope back in because she is certain that things will fall apart sooner or later – just like they always do. For now, she’ll just accept and enjoy this good feeling in her chest while it lasts.

She’ll take what she can get, and it is enough.

Months actually pass and Emma didn’t expect to see herself still working alongside Mary Margaret in the very same classroom, but here she is, still spending her days with the always high-spirited children. Every once in a while, she even receives a handful of cards from the dear, sweet students as a show of their gratitude for having another adult friend they can talk to freely without fearing punishment. The kids are growing on her, she will admit, and by now she thinks it would hurt her to leave them behind if she ever makes that decision.

She certainly didn’t expect to grow so close to Mary Margaret, but as their bond developed as a result of consulting about lesson plans and chatting leisurely about their beloved students, she finds herself learning more about her, besides what the lady herself shares.

For instance, that her fair and soft-spoken companion has a rather not-so-discreet attraction to the sheriff – the only one in this town, in fact.

Emma has grown comfortable enough around her to tease her whenever they catch sight of the sheriff’s car driving around on his rounds, to which a warm sensation embraces her chest when she earns the sight of a blush spreading rapidly across her friend’s cheeks and ears.

She likes the feeling she gets in her heart from making her friend smile and laugh and ramble on in excitement about random things. It makes her feel like this is something real, that it is something that she might just have a chance to keep for a time longer than she is used to. There is the inevitable fear and sense of unease in there as well that all this, the friendship she has forged and the glee of spending time with someone she has become so at ease with, will disappear, but for some reason, she has the courage to push it aside for a while and enjoy these things for what they are.

It takes all but another two weeks for Mary Margaret to gather the confidence to spark up a conversation with the kind and polite man, with Emma’s help, she will proudly admit to herself, and just as she expected, things go splendidly well. Emma is happy for her friend, and she feels the fond smile settle over her own features more easily than ever whenever she watches her friends – Mary Margaret insisted on introducing her personally to the man not long after they started dating, and David Nolan, one of the kindest people she has ever met next to Mary Margaret, easily became another good friend of hers – walk off on their dates in the early evenings.

Emma doesn’t mean to, but she feels herself wonder what it might feel like to have such an attraction to another. Would it be a tender sensation in her chest, a warmth that never fades and that makes it impossible to stop thinking of the one she has feelings for, much like what she can see in Mary Margaret and David’s eyes, or would it be more like a rush of passion that never ends and makes her yearn for the presence and sheer touch of her lover, perhaps like what she used to see in some couples strolling the city before she came here?

She doesn’t want to call it that, but she thinks she maybe feels a tinge of jealousy for what they feel. Perhaps it might just be curiosity instead, but Emma surmises that she is intrigued by this emotion that many others seem to want so badly in life. She doesn’t want to think of the possibility that she herself might want it too, so she decides to focus on the real and present things in life that she is sure she wants (and needs), like her job.

She decides at that moment to yank herself out of her thoughts and turns around, but she realises it is a mistake to turn so abruptly without first looking where she is going because in less than a second she finds herself colliding with something very solid and tall–

“ _Oof._ ”

Or some _one_.

She startles at the presence of the other person directly in front of her, close enough that she can feel the warmth radiating from his chest, and for some reason her reflex action is to look up instead of stepping back, and she is startled once again by the brilliant blue of his eyes as he stares back at her.

“Um, s- sorry… I didn’t see you there,” she mumbles her apology once she remembers to breathe, and she feels the increasing urge to step away as her face heats up with rising degrees of embarrassment the longer she remains in this position.

But before she can fully turn to continue on her way, she hears a deep, melodic and accented voice rumble behind her, and her feet involuntarily stop.

“Apologies, love. Have a lovely evening.”

And with that, he pulls away and walks in the direction opposite to hers before she can get another look at him and ponder about his accent that clearly isn’t from around here. Emma can’t find an explanation as to why her heart is now beating a little faster and why it won’t slow down even as she is making her way back to her room at the inn, but she leaves it because it’s a trivial matter and she has other things to think about.

(Though, in reality she doesn’t have much else to think about, so that night, when she is trying hard to fall asleep, her attempts at chasing away the memory of his smile from her consciousness go completely fruitless and it takes her longer to slip into slumber than usual.)

It is mere coincidence that Emma sees the very same boy – who can’t be more than five years older than her – walk into Granny’s Diner for the first time the next morning as she is having breakfast with Mary Margaret and David before work as usual.

She freezes for just a second when their eyes happen to meet right at the same time, and she is the first to look away awkwardly, but not before catching a glimpse of a friendly smile on that handsome face of his.

(And she _cannot_ believe she just thought his face is handsome. She hopes it doesn’t somehow show on her face.)

“Emma? You all right there?”

She jumps in her seat, her mind instantly assuming David has caught on – he is the sheriff, after all – but he only looks at her in confusion, and she realises he has thankfully just asked her a question and was met with her silence.

“Oh, um, yeah. Guess I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Are you okay? Are you not feeling well today?” The concern in Mary Margaret’s voice sends a warm feeling to her chest, and Emma brushes her off with a reassuring smile. Geez, Mary Margaret could pass off as her mother with all the frequent worrying she did over her.

“No, no, I mean– yes, I’m okay, I’m fine. I just kinda had a long night.”

She keeps her eyes down long enough not to realise that David’s eyes have landed on something – some _one_ – before he suddenly opens his mouth and beckons a certain _someone_ over.

“Oh, hey, Killian! Come join us over here!”

Confusion settles over her a few seconds too late and so she doesn’t have much time left to prepare herself when the same startling blue eyes from the night before plants themselves right in front of her, a lone cup of steaming tea in the owner’s hand.

She watches as a flicker of recognition lights up in his eyes and a broad, breath-taking grin breaks out on his face. (There her heart goes again, skipping a beat all on its own.)

“Emma, this is Killian. Killian, Emma.”

She barely registers David’s voice – though luckily she managed to catch his name before – as her mind is occupied instead with feelings of self-consciousness at how intently the boy sitting across from her is looking at her.

It takes a few blinks from Emma before she can regain enough control of her features to smile back as naturally as she can muster, and the way his eyes soften at her then shouldn’t have awakened butterflies in her stomach, and she can’t force away the blush that no doubt is spreading across her cheeks. She wishes she could have known what this would come to mean moving forward, but it’s not like Emma was ever prepared for anything in her life to change before, was she?

She doesn’t know how it happened, but somehow, their acquaintance since Granny’s Diner – or since the night before that, really – evolved into a friendship that feels so natural to have developed only over the span of a month. It has gotten to a point that Emma feels she has known him for longer, that she couldn’t possibly have gotten so close to and comfortable with him in just a month, but she decides to just enjoy spending time with him. Life goes on well, and she is happy.

Until, until she discovers a new, lingering feeling in her chest every time she looks at him now. She can’t remember when this feeling arrived, but it beckons her to let her gaze linger on him in certain moments, like when his head is thrown back in pure, unadulterated laughter, or when a fond smile is on his face and commands her eyes there instead of on the thing he’s really showing her on his phone. She already knows that she likes when he smiles, so she thinks it must be something else – no, she is sure of _that_ too, but despite having an idea of the name of this _feeling_ deep, deep down, she stubbornly pushes the thought away any time it surfaces because it’s _crazy_ to think that she could actually have these feelings for someone.

(She thinks it’s crazy because she’s never had to deal with an emotion as strong and deep as this that has taken hold of her heart and changes the way she acts when she’s around him. She’s not even in control of her own body anymore when he’s around, and she can’t help but feel uneasy about what that says about her.)

Of course, it takes a misfortune for Emma to come to terms with and accept her newfound feelings for her best friend.

It seemed like a regular morning of meeting up for breakfast at Granny’s when he breaks the news to her.

“Not forever, love, of course I won’t be leaving forever,” he adds suddenly after a beat has passed, and that alone brings the stillness of her own body to her attention. She realises a second late that he sees the forlorn expression that she must be wearing now, and she quickly regains control of the muscles in her face and offers him a weak smile – she’s not in the mood to fake anything more at the moment; he’s her best friend, and he’ll be able to see through that anyway. (Sometimes she thinks he might know her better than she does.)

She blinks and doesn’t understand why her eyes feel wet, especially at such an inconvenient time like this, and her embarrassment threatens to swallow her from the inside. She wishes – hopes – they will disappear as she tries to use her voice without it cracking.

“Well, next time don’t make it sound like you are,” she jokes, a poor attempt, though, and only later realises that she probably shouldn’t have said _next time_ because she already knows she wishes he’ll never have to leave again. “How long are you going to be away?”

Killian reaches up to scratch behind his ear, and there is a sinking feeling in Emma’s chest as she recognises the implications of that nervous tick of his – something not so good.

“At least a year. My brother’s returning for a while to visit some friends before we both head off to serve the Navy together. I’ve always wanted to enlist with Liam, but he insisted that I stay here for a few more years to ‘live a little more before I pour my heart and soul into serving’, whatever that means,” he chuckles, and Emma can’t help the fond smile on her face when she sees the endearing look in his eyes at the mention of his brother. “He told me to find things that I’ll look forward to returning to for when I actually go. Motivation, and all that.”

Emma catches the intent look in the blue depths of his eyes that tells her quite clearly that he’s referring to her as well, and she doesn’t bother to will the blush emerging on her cheeks away. She knows he means that she’s a good friend whom he’ll miss, of course, and it’s sweet. It makes her feel important, like she matters.

She decides then that she is content with this friendship, that it is enough, and she shouldn’t be asking for more because all this is already more than she has ever had.

But she still can’t help the yearning in her heart that makes her chest ache more and more as he walks away from her, David and Mary Margaret just a week later, towards the large ship with his brother next to him. She wants so badly to dispel the tears building up in her eyes, but she doesn’t want to risk wasting time on blinking them away when she is focusing so hard on his retreating figure, growing smaller and smaller the more distance he puts between them.

And she can’t help the nagging fear in her gut that things might change when he gets back, because no matter what, deep down she knows things will always change (usually for the worst, but Emma forces herself not to think that way anymore – things have been good for a long time that she’s sure this streak is going to continue, because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if it doesn’t and something goes wrong).

He said a year, but to be fair, he said _at least_ before that, so Emma really doesn’t know why she’s feeling mad that he isn’t back a whole month after he said he would – _might_. Maybe it’s her mind’s way of dealing with the worry that she won’t deny is flooding through her system every other moment her mind isn’t occupied with other thoughts.

Either way, the only thing she can really do is wait, so that’s what she’ll do until he gets back.

(She’s decided that she’ll give him an earful when he gets back, though probably only after she gives him a crushing hug for all the trouble he’s caused her.)

Another two months pass and still there is no news that he’ll be returning any time soon. Her concern has been fluctuating between too much that it constantly weighs down on her chest and sometimes she just becomes resigned to the fact that he’s probably just enjoying the sailing part of the job and jumps at every opportunity to use it as an excuse to spend more time at sea like she expects him to.

Three more months fly by, the days dull in contrast to when she would spend most of her free hours with Killian, and the time only feels fleeting because she busies herself with more work at the school and sometimes even paperwork at the sheriff’s station. Mary Margaret and David had, of course, objected at first, but seeing the resolve in the younger girl’s eyes that indicated she wouldn’t accept no for an answer, they relented and allowed her to fill her time with the extra work; at least it was all productive work and that also meant the two had more time to themselves (and perhaps with each other).

And then finally, _finally_ , just before the end of the next month, Emma gets word of his ship making its way to the town’s harbour on a particularly uneventful Wednesday, and she practically sprints to the sheriff’s station with Mary Margaret trailing behind her to interrupt David at work – he isn’t even doing much anyway, is her defence when David gave her _that_ _look_ – and pull him from his desk and drag him all the way to the town’s harbour on foot without even letting herself catch her breath.

She gets there in time to watch his ship pull into the harbour, and she sees the older Jones emerge from the top deck first. She smiles as she greets him with Mary Margaret and David, and she can hardly contain the excitement bubbling up within her knowing that her best friend is about to follow any minute now.

And just another minute passes before she catches sight of him. The grin that splits her face comes immediately as she waits for him to turn so that their eyes can meet for the first time in what feels like ages, but then a figure standing very close by is caught in her periphery, and her eyes flit down to her face on sheer impulse.

The woman is breathtakingly gorgeous, and her eyes shine such a pretty grey that complements the ocean in a painfully perfect way, her dark hair swaying in the wind so elegantly, and Emma can’t stop the aching in her chest that yanks the grin right off her face.

The way Killian looks at her as he helps her down the gangplank is unmistakeable.

She learns quickly that her name is Milah, and that Killian is so obviously deeply in love with her. The adoration and fondness in his expression is so true and pure that Emma finds herself smiling at the happiness he is radiating as their group catch up on all that’s happened in the past year and a half at their usual little booth at Granny’s.

Her new suspicions about his prolonged stay turn out to be true – that he decided to stay a while at the port where he had met his love before deciding to bring her back with him.

They look good together. Truly, Emma is happy for her best friend. His happiness is all that matters, and she forces herself to remember that as she futilely chases away the sadness that stubbornly continues to prod at the bottom of her heart.

More months pass, and seeing the loving pair around town continues to clench at her heart despite how often she tries to rid herself of those lingering feelings because she doesn’t have the right to feel this way towards a man already so deep in love. Emma doesn’t get to spend much time with him anymore, and she really isn’t upset – she gets it, new relationship, and all – but that means she has more time with absolutely nothing to do, so she resorts to filling her time with more extra work like before.

Of course, Mary Margaret and David ask her about it, and she appreciates the concern, but she merely tells them that she’s “just bored is all, and what better way to deal with it than be busy, right?”

They don’t question her after that, but she feels their worry every time she comes in for more work. She just ignores it, because it’s undoubtedly easier to deal with things that way, just as she always has.

She doesn’t really know what triggers it, because she thought she had finally figured out how to forget her feelings for her best friend after months of seeing them together, but clearly, she hasn’t, and she realises that like a swift punch to the gut when she feels something inside her die when Killian comes to her one afternoon and tells her his _wonderful plan_.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?”

Emma scoffs, but not unkindly, despite her buried feelings. _The darn idiot…_

“Are you blind? Have you _seen_ the way she looks at you? It’s not possible for her to _not_ say yes. Just ask her already.”

The smile Killian sends her rips into her heart, and it’s at that precise moment that the feeling of running away catches up to her and finally overpowers her.

She’s glad the smile she’s wearing is convincing enough, because she doesn’t think she can go another day watching her first love share his heart with another with this heavy mask on. It’s getting all too tiring for her, so she makes the brave choice for once, for herself, and decides that she’ll leave first thing in the morning the next day in search of something that will complete her.

David is the last to see her off – he drives her out of town and all the way to the train station, actually – and the words he leaves her with as she alights echoes in her head long after he has driven away.

_“You’ll always have a home here, Emma.”_

Sure, he’d also forced her to promise that she’ll come back, at least to visit, but his words ring meaning that she knows will keep her heart warm on the days that she feels alone, the days she knows will inevitably come to haunt her choices and ridicule her for not being satisfied with _enough_.

Another thought that lingers at the back of her mind is the last thing she said to her dear best friend, but this is one promise that she regretfully can’t be sure to keep unless she finds happiness of her own, something fulfilling enough to fill her heart and perhaps replace those stubborn feelings for him so that she can actually take it when she has to face him.

_“Come back for my wedding?”_

_“… So, she said yes, huh?”_

_“Answer the question, Swan.”_

_“Yes. I promise.”_

In Boston, Emma meets Neal at 20.

The man is some years older than her, but she doesn’t mind that, of course. He gives her an achingly familiar warm feeling in her chest with the way he looks at her, and she relishes it, because for the very first time, it seems like her feelings are mutual.

She thinks she falls for him more each day, her attraction for him that was planted the day they met growing stronger with each moment spent together, and she’s sure she sees it in his eyes too right before he leans in and her lips meet his.

The warmth in her chest spreads to her face and she feels it’s only natural for her hand to come up to his cheek to pull him closer, because now that she knows what Mary Margaret feels for David and what Milah feels for Killian, and now what she feels for Neal, she can’t seem to get enough. She understands what’s so addicting about this feeling, but the catch is that it only feels this way when there’s someone else to return it.

She thinks she’s ready now, to face _him_. Because she has what she’s always wanted to embrace, except she’s embracing it with someone else who feels the exact same way, and she knows she’s ready to see him start the rest of his life with the woman he loves, because she has _him_.

But she hasn’t gotten a call from David nor Mary Margaret nor Killian that the wedding will be happening any time soon, so she’ll just live in the moment and explore this new thing she’s found with Neal for as long as she can.

Then it takes only a few months for things to change – for the worst, naturally.

She finds herself sitting in a jail cell at the end of it all, her chest feeling hollow and void with tears running down her face, refusing to stop despite the humiliation enveloping her as long as she sits there.

But the world isn’t as cruel to her after all, because the policewoman is kind enough to let her off the hook after just a couple hours knowing that she did nothing but get foolishly set up by the one man she thought actually loved her back.

Emma leaves the station with her heart raggedly ripped in two, as if it never mattered, then she remembers what she had always pushed herself to never forget – that her heart really only mattered to one person, and one person alone: herself. And that should have been enough, but of course after all this time Emma still hasn’t learnt her lesson, so this is what happens. She deserves it.

She knows now.

Her walls go up that day, not for the first time, but they are higher than ever before.

She will never let anyone in again.

For the next six months Emma lives on a mundane routine of isolation from the rest of the world during the day and only going out at night for work. She doesn’t really know whether she barely leaves the house while the sun is still up because she’s afraid she’ll see _him_ again amongst the sea of strangers, but she is certain it is unlikely that that will happen anyway because he’s obviously been long gone since months ago.

On the upside, she was able to get a job that isn’t the worst and one that she’s actually good at, and that’s about the only time she leaves the house aside from getting provisions. The thing she likes so much about it is that she gets to leave her heart at home and fake feelings for a couple hours each night and end it with dragging the men back to the very same police station where the new foundations of her heart were built. It is ultimately gratifying, because she gets to take out her bitterness on these men and allow the weight on her shoulders to feel just a little lighter by the time she returns to her apartment.

She still has her yellow bug, which is about the only good thing Neal left her and the only thing she kept from her time with him, but it’s collecting dust and leaves on the windshield downstairs from disuse.

She spends her days alone at home pondering about whether she should just return to Storybrooke already because her only friends are there, but then that would make it clear for them to see that things didn’t work out like she wanted them to, and she was crawling back for their sympathy, and that simply won’t do.

Emma Swan doesn’t need anyone. She only needs herself, because she is the only one she can really count on in every single occasion. After all, who else will love her when she is solely responsible for ruining her own life, time and time again?

It’s always been like that anyway. Emma doubts it will ever change.

But then she gets a call, and it’s David, and the tone of his voice stills the blood in her veins the moment she picks up. She’s never heard him this way before, and the panic settles in long before he mentions _Killian_.

Her mind grows loud with fleeting thoughts and the pumping of her heart becomes audible in her ears then, but she is able to catch the words _accident_ , _hospital_ , and _unconscious_.

They are enough to relight the determination in her that she thought was long dead, and her feet spur into action before her mind ever gives them the instruction.

For the first time in months, she gets into her bug and drives all the way to Storybrooke with his name playing on repeat in her head.

She’s grateful the tears in her eyes aren’t yet enough to obstruct her vision too much, but she knows they will come for her later.

She hates that these are the expressions on their faces when she sees them again for the first time after so long away, but her vision is quickly getting blurry without her volition at the fear that’s clawing up her throat as Mary Margaret comes to embrace her the moment she steps into the hospital lobby.

Her instinct tells her hands to come up to return her comforting hug, but it honestly doesn’t do much for the painful throbbing of her heart, but of course she can’t let her dear friend know that.

The calm atmosphere in the lobby the three of them are standing in is such a contrast to the hurricane of emotions in her head – or is it her heart? – that it’s suffocating, or perhaps it’s just the worry and the overwhelming sense of helplessness she’s feeling as she stands there, unable to do anything but wait for the go-ahead before they can visit him. But then…

“Hey, what about Milah? Is she with him now or… on her way? And Liam?”

She no longer feels the clenching of her heart when she has to mention the beautiful brunette, but the silence that follows brings it back for a whole other reason.

“Liam went back to the Navy after you left and he’s on his way back now. But Emma, she… she was with him in the accident. She… she didn’t make it.”

Emma feels her heart shrivel up, and she doesn’t want to even imagine how he will react when he’s told – assuming he doesn’t already know. David mentioned that he’s still unconscious, and she feels another flare of fear rise up inside her at the thought of his condition.

_What if he never wakes up?_

_No._

She refuses to think that way. He’s a survivor, he’ll pull through.

He has to, because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if he doesn’t.

When she finally gets to see him, he is awake, but the blank and unfeeling look on his face makes her heart drop all the way down to her stomach, and she instantly feels guilt and regret for ever leaving him in the first place.

The first time she sees him again should have been when she’s seeing him at his happiest, starting the very moment where he’ll be spending the rest of his life with the woman who held his heart, but now she finds herself here.

It’s not fair. Killian deserves better.

She almost misses it when he looks up at her then, and a ghost of a smile, somehow genuine though weak, as if it took too much work to form it, is flashed in her direction before a single word is exhaled from his lips.

_“Swan.”_

At that moment, she is sure, and her heart breaks for him all over again.

_He knows._

At least she didn’t have to be the one to break it to him. Now, her only job left to do is to pick up the pieces of his heart and help him put it back together again, because he is her friend, her very best friend, and she loves him (in more ways than she should).

She doesn’t know how she missed it the first time, but she sees it when she steps around the bed – an empty space where his left hand should be.

Her heart breaks the third time that day.

The days that follow bleed into weeks, and then months. Emma spends most of her time with Killian again, and things almost seem to go back to the way they were before, except… _not_. So much has changed, and for once life seems still and neutral; nothing too good nor too bad.

It was unspoken that Emma would be helping him through all forms of recovery he needs, and of course, she doesn’t mind. They are still so close that things never became awkward for them, and Emma gets the chance to help him where she knows how to.

But that also means she has to witness every moment of pain that shows on his face, both from the ones in his nerves and in his heart.

The phantom pains never seem to cease, and if Emma is right about how amputation works, they won’t ever. Perhaps the best he can achieve in terms of recovery is only feeling them every once in a while. But still, she feels a piercing ache in her heart every time he grimaces that tells her that the pain has returned for another session of tormenting him at the most random of times.

On other occasions, she feels the emptiness in his heart in the smallest ways that she can though she knows what she’s felt can never be compared to what he is going through.

Somehow, she forgets that she’s an open book to him, and she is mad that she gets startled when he only has to look at her for five seconds to recognise that same look in her eyes.

So, he asks about it, and she knows he deserves her baring her heart out to him, because he’s been nothing but a good friend, so she tells him everything.

She wishes she could erase the look of guilt that’s currently occupying his features, because he doesn’t have any reason to feel that way, the darn idiot, but deep down she knows him well enough to figure it out before he speaks it.

“Love, I’m sorry. You’re hurting as well and I never gave you the chance to talk about it before.”

She chuckles at a ridiculously poor attempt to brush it off, but she doesn’t know why she even tries when she is well aware that he’s able to see right through it.

“No, it’s all right... It’s my fault. I should have seen the signs, but I was blind.”

Their conversation eases into a comfortable silence after that, and there is an unspoken decision between them to enjoy the rest of their dinner before they head off in separate directions, just as they do every night. Emma is grateful he doesn’t try to defend her again, but she knows he’s just always been perceptive about her, because she wouldn’t be able to keep the tears at bay at the familiar clenching of her heart if he were to stir up her emotions again.

Some things really don’t change.

She almost forgets why she came into the precinct but luckily, David is right there to read her expression and answers her question before she even thinks to ask it.

She sees how he reads the look in her eyes, and she’s sure it must be visible with how strongly she herself can feel it in her chest, especially to the man who feels something like her brother.

It takes him but a moment to voice his offer with a gentle smile.

“Why don’t you try out being sheriff for a day? Nothing really goes on in this town so I don’t think there will be too many problems to deal with. Besides, I’m sure you have the right skills for it. You were a bail bondsperson, right?”

And so, she realises that she quite likes the job, and she discovers that David was meaning to give it to her anyway, what with the upcoming wedding and all that. _More time building family_ , he says, and Emma responds with a soft smile that remains on her face long after he leaves for his now nightly appointments with his fiancée.

She is so happy for Mary Margaret and David. They are perfect for each other, and she finds herself impulsively wishing for something like that again, a spur-of-the-moment thing, but she remembers the harsh lesson she was served last year, and the smile disappears from her face. The pain in her heart is still there, still a vicious reminder of what she let herself experience, with nobody but herself to blame, and she vows to never forget it.

She’s sure her feelings will fade eventually, and she’s all right with waiting it out, however long it takes, though it will be undoubtedly difficult with how she spends nearly every waking moment with the man in question.

But it’s all right. Things have always been better this way, without emotional attachments. Things have always been easier alone with no one else’s feelings to consider apart from her own, and she plans to keep it that way as much as she can help it.

This life, this friendship is enough, it’s more than enough, in fact, and she doesn’t want to lose it.

She’ll very well make sure she won’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this fic a chance! This came out a lot longer than I planned it to be, but I'm ultimately satisfied with how it turned out. This is my first time writing after a long while and I'm probably very rusty at it, so I might have made some mistakes; feel free to point out any that you might have noticed! Any and all feedback is welcome and appreciated :)
> 
> I recently entered the OUAT fandom and I'm admittedly in love with Captain Swan. I read and was inspired by a beautiful fic that I've mentioned, which revived the old writer in me, so do go check it out as well as the other works the brilliant author has written!
> 
> And apologies for the not-so-happy ending... I love love love angst and figured that I wanted to try writing something that ends in angst or something like it, haha. I honestly wasn't quite sure how to end it, but I hope that what I have so far is enough (no pun intended). However, there's a possibility that I might write an additional chapter (or two) if I get any ideas about writing Killian's perspective and if I end up wanting "unrequited love" to turn into "mutual pining"... XD
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you're having a wonderful day!


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